


Family

by Mexxell



Category: Scion (Tabletop RPG)
Genre: F/F, i dont even know if this is canon, no one cares about these characters, why did i tag all this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-02 23:54:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6588436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mexxell/pseuds/Mexxell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternatively titled: So whatever happened to the rivals, anyways?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lost_torie_is_me](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_torie_is_me/gifts).



          It wasn’t our brightest hour. If I was being honest, I’d probably say it was our darkest hour. Panateros’ gang had surprised us as we’d emerged from Orpheus’ Gate to Hades. Still tired from the quest, it was nothing sort of a miracle that we didn’t straight-up die.

          Tristan and the big girl, Branna, were circling each other warily a dozen meters from where I stood. A score of fresh cuts littered Branna’s body, but it barely seemed to bother her, her eyes bright with the thrill of the battle. Tyr’s son, on the other hand, was in shambles. He’d taken quite a beating from the hell hounds that had harried our escape from the underworld, his clothes were tattered and bloody. A single _tyr_ rune glowed over his forehead. The man was running on adrenaline, willpower, and Eiween’s healing powers.

          Jaram’s cat let out a roar as it dashed past me, the man himself sitting astride the massive Sir Buttons, a flurry of air-born knives heralding his appearance. With a start, I followed the trajectory of the knives and realized that Delphine had somehow worked her way up to a few feet from me without my noticing. Silently thanking Jaram as he chased her into the underbrush outside the clearing, I tried to find the rest of the fight.

          Slightly obscured by the trees, Adam, the unfellable giant that he was, was barely being restrained by the combined efforts of Aiden and Will- they seemed to have fashioned some mechanical contraption with Will’s vacuum and the net he’d received from Nieth at Dubai. Despite it all, the ground seemed to be shifting under their feet at Adam’s command, nearly knocking them down.

          A shaft of moonlight caught my eye as Bubblepop and Haru streaked past. Bubblepop’s moonlight landed on a nearby outcropping, materializing into her physical form. Barely pausing to take aim, the sound of gunshots rang shattered the night air as she shot the liquid shadow that chased her, causing Haru’s form to materialize from the darkness for a second. As soon as they’d materialized, they dissipated and blasted away into the winter night.

          I frowned as Eiween shivered in my arms, nearly catatonic. Our trip through the underworld had not been kind to her, and she had not been allowed to relax once we’d emerged. Almost as soon as we’d poked our head back into the mortal world, a massive blizzard had whipped up, urged on by Zhu-li, the woman just barely visible on the outskirt of the clearing opposite Branna. She was staring daggers at Eiween as the daughter of Brigid willed the storm of ice to melt into harmless rain, which splattered the site of the battle.

          To her side sat the Aztec woman, Orlanda, dagger in hand. No, literally. The dagger was IN her hand, embedded straight to the hilt, blood dripping down her forearm. She was grinning at me.

          A chill ran down my spine as I opened the Unlidded Eye.

          The battlefield was a mess of fatebindings. The threads of destiny itself were tightly bound to every scion present. It took longer than it should have to see what was happening- Orlanda was twisting the strings of fate to alter the outcome of the battle.

          _Two can play at that game,_ I thought darkly. I was vaguely aware of the smirk painted across my face as I shifted Eiween around and pulled out my _thyrsus_.

          Waving the _thyrsus_ , I banished a few strands of bad luck as they were about to ensnare Tristan.

          Before I could even congratulate myself on a job well done, I heard a scream of pain. Whirling around, I saw that Adam had burst from his confines and had slammed a massive fist into Will’s gut, sending the poor guy stumbling backward, wordlessly clutching his torso in pain as he slumped down the trunk of a nearby pine.

          _Fuck me._ Stretching out, I willed a strand of luck to help Aiden as he struggled against the enraged Adam.

          At the same time, a strand of bad luck tripped Sir Buttons, sending Jaram sprawling across the mud, barely dodging out of the way of Delphine’s deft stabs.

          _Fuck me,_ I thought, trying to keep up as Orlanda wove misfortune on my friends and Tristan.

          It continued like this for what seemed like hours. At some point, I gave up trying to counter Orlanda’s bad luck, and instead started my own offensive. Every time Orlanda tripped Tristan, Branna would lose her footing in the slick mud. Whenever I made Haru mistime his materialization, Orlanda would make Bubblepop’s shot go wide.

          To anyone else, the battlefield quickly became a cacophony of failure and incompetence. I grinned widely at the tapestry of fateful clusterfuck being woven, the discord of it all fueling me. Across the clearing, Orlanda’s grin was still strong. She seemed to be enjoying herself too. The woman also had a few more scores of blood running down her arms turning the mud at her feet a peculiar shade of burgundy. It reminded me of wine.

          I felt the urge to laugh. So I did.

          I heard coughing coming from somewhere below, interrupting my laughter. Glancing down, I saw Eiween curled up in a ball, a trickle of blood coming from her lips. I frowned. When had I dropped her? More importantly, when had the bubble of rain shrunk to this point? The blizzard was almost collapsing on us at this point.

          Dropping to my knees to pick her up again, I looked back to the fight just in time to see Tristan receive a fist right to his face. The former cop stumbled for a moment before falling to his knees. Branna sauntered to him and, with a wicked grin, slammed her knee into his jaw. A sickening _crunch_ filled the clearing as Tristan's head snapped backward before collapsing into the mud. I watched as Aiden was tossed like a ragdoll into the treeline, splintering the trees he slammed against.

          _Does the forest look darker,_ I wondered vaguely. _It looks darker._

          The moonlight seemed to dim when Haru emerged from the treeline, shadows lapping at his heels as he dragged Bubblepop’s limp form and dropped her on top of Will.

          _Did he not get up from that punch earlier,_ I thought, fighting to remember. _How did I not notice?_

          “What happened?” I heard myself whisper.

          Numb, I turned to the tapestry of misfortune I had helped Orlanda weave.

          I frowned distractedly. _Helped her weave? No, wove_ against _her_ , I corrected myself.

          The tapestry was magnificent. I’d played with fate before, but this was a true work of art. I grinned in a daze at what I’d wrought for a moment.

          From the woods came the sound of a slow-clap.

          I jerked, my stomach sinking as my knees turned to jelly. I fell back onto my ass as the fatebinding I’d helped weave bore down on me. It was like I’d woken up from a dream into a nightmare- the tapestry was barely touching any of our opponents. Even the massive weaves of misfortune _I_ had made were directed at my friends.

          “What have I done,” I croaked, my throat constricting in terror as the clapping drew nearer. Orlanda and the rest of our rivals turned to the figure approaching.

          “Why, Vincent,” said Panateros in gleeful tones as he emerged into the clearing, his hands clasped together. “You helped me win!”

*         *         *

          Branna felt… uneasy.

          She wasn’t afraid, obviously. What was there to be afraid of? The losers had been summarily dealt with, and she’d gotten to slam that smug son of Tyr piece of shit in his stupid cop face.

          Still, as Panateros approached, she couldn’t help but feel uneasy. The man was unnerving. He wore a suit and kept his dark hair well-trimmed. By all accounts, he should have looked like an accountant, or maybe a lawyer. Whatever modicum of normalcy his outfit evoked, the effect was lost at his eyes. His eyes were wild and searching, alight with the hints of insanity and barely human.

          He slowed his clap as he approached the son of Dionysus who had started to scramble backwards through the snow that had finally broken through, still on his ass. Branna sneered. Honestly, how pathetic. She sauntered back to Orlanda and Zhu-li as Panateros continued his chat with Saramago.

          “Nice work,” Branna said, punching Orlanda playfully on the shoulder. “I have no fucking idea what you just did but you fucked him _up_.”

          Orlanda ignored Branna, her gaze wordlessly fixated on Panateros.

          Zhu-li huffed. “At least she _did_ things! That Brigid bitch just, like, fucked me entirely! What was I even supposed to do with that?”

          Branna laughed and pat the smaller woman on the face, causing her to redden. “Don’t worry, babe,” she said, letting the smaller woman go. “Next time you’ll get to freeze them all to hell and back.”

          Zhu-li hummed noncommittedly as Haru approached with Adam to his right.

          “Have any of you seen Delphine?” he asked, his tone as intense and businesslike as possible. He bore a gunshot wound on his shoulder, but didn’t seem to be paying it much heed.

          Zhu-li shook her head, her lips pursed. “She and catboy ran off into the woods and I haven’t seen them since.”

          Haru nodded curtly. “Branna,” he ordered, “Start combing the woods. Orlanda, help her.”

          Branna huffed as she started to jog into the woods. Before she had the chance to, Panateros’ voice called over from the clearing.

          “No,” he said, his voice chillingly clear in the wind. “I need Orlanda here. Branna can do this herself.”

          Branna froze. She saw Orlanda and Zhu-li do the same, turning to Haru. While Panateros was nominally their leader, Haru did most of the day-to-day organizing and, personally, Branna like him better than Panateros’ half-insane ass. To be honest, Haru was pretty fucking crazy in his own right, but weren’t they all?

          Haru gave a small nod.

          Branna felt herself relax. Waving to Zhu-li she bounded from the clearing as Orlanda slowly walked to Panateros. The son of Pan hadn’t seemed to have notice the moment of hesitation and was motioning for Orlanda to join him as he stood over the fallen forms of Saramago and MacElwee

          _Well what the fuck now?_ Branna thought as she started to comb through the forest, her feet sinking in the calf-deep snow that coat the forest floor. Her eyes easily pierced the darkness, but that did little to help her find the catboy and Delphine. That woman could be elusive as fuck when it suited her, not to mention the literal cat-burglar wouldn’t be a slouch at hiding.

          Instead of looking around like a complete fucking moron, Branna decided to fall back on the true and tested method: brutal, direct, and unsubtle.

          Cupping her hands around her mouth she let out a bellow: “DELPHINE YOU FUCKING SCAMP WHERE DID YOU PISS OFF TO?!”

          She was rewarded with her own echo.

          “Gods damnit all,” she muttered. She was about to resume her search when she noticed a massive raven perched on a branch across from her, staring down at her with beady, intelligent eyes.

          Branna felt a growl emerge from her throat. She hated crows. Bending down, she grabbed a bit of ice from the ground and hurled it at the raven. The shard of ice missed by millimeters, embedding intself in the bark right next to the bird’s head.

          The raven didn’t flinch.

          “Now, daughter,” a woman’s voice spoke out in stern Irish tones, from not two feet behind her, “That is not very respectful.”

          Stifling a roar, Branna swept around. Behind her stood a woman. She wore her dark hair in a sever braid over her shoulder, woven with crow feathers. She wore black military fatigues, but seemed to be unarmed. Her face was darkly handsome, beautiful almost, and was looking at Branna with a strange expression. If she didn’t know better, Branna would have called it pity but… She shook her head. Pity was foreign to the Morrigan.

          “I’m not your daughter,” Branna spat.

          The Morrigan nodded. “Yes. You’ve made that very clear. However, there is still a chance.”

          Branna bristled. “For what? To fawn at your feet? To serve you, despite you never having done _anything_ for me? For _us_?”

          The Morrigan looked unmoved by her outburst. Branna cursed herself. She thought she was over this.

          They stood in tense silence for a moment. “What do you want?!” Branna shouted once her patience had worn out. “I _forsook_ you, Morrigan! Why are you here _now_ of all times!?”

          Instead of answering her, the Morrigan moved to the side and looked back to the clearing where the fight had happened and pointed. Despite herself, Branna followed her gaze.

          A single rabbit made of ice and snow limped toward her. If the Morrigan hadn’t pointed it out, Branna would never have noticed it. He heart sank.

_Zhu-li._

          “Yes,” the Morrigan said in even tones. Branna hadn’t realized she had spoken aloud. “That looks to be a desperate plea, wouldn’t you?”

          Branna gaped at the Morrigan. Then, registering what the goddess had said, she bolted toward the clearing.

          Minutes later, she approached the clearing, approached the scene of a nightmare.

          Panateros stood at the Gate to the underworld that the other group had emerged, his back to the clearing. Behind him, Adam’s corpse was splayed out. The massive man’s throat had been gashed open and a river of blood still flowed from the wound. His face gazed upward in dumb shock, unaware of his surroundings even in death.         

          Orlanda stood over Adam’s bleeding corpse, knife in hand, her outfit smeared with his blood. She was looking down at her handiwork, her sacrifice, with a faraway look, as if unsure of what she had done. Haru stood to her side, clutching her shoulder as if reassuring Orlanda that she’d done the right thing.

          _Zhu-li_ , Branna thought dimly through the shock what she was seeing, _I need to find Zhu-li_.

          It didn’t take long to find her. A massive mound of shifting darkness wound its way around half the clearing, creating a prison. Zhu-li stood at the bars, staring at the grisly remains of the sacrifice, her face as shocked as Branna felt. Behind her, Saramago sat curled into himself, surrounded by the slack forms of his fallen friends.

          Then, breaking the silence, Zhu-li’s voice screamed, her voice breaking. “What have you done, Orlanda!? Haru?!” Jerking in the cage, Zhu-li sprayed her fingers out and pointed them at Panateros’s still form. A ray of ice-blue energy streaked from her fingers and slammed into Panateros’ back, sending the man stumbling forward. “AT LEAST LOOK AT WHAT YOU’VE DONE YOU FUCKING BASTARD!” Her voice broke as she shouted at him.

          Orlanda hadn’t seemed to have registered, but Haru looked to Panateros, as if for instruction. Without turning around, Panateros said, “She goes next. She isn’t needed, but I don’t think I can allow this kind of subordination.” He let out a quiet giggle. “Especially not on a day like today!”

          _He’s completely insane,_ Branna realized dumbly. _Not just half-mad. He’s actually just completely fucking insane._ How hadn’t she noticed before? It was so painfully obvious now.

          “NO!!” Zhu-li shrieked, unleashed a torrent of ice daggers at Haru. The fallen son of Amaterasu effortlessly dodged the projectiles. Reaching the cage, he wordlessly pulled Zhu-li out of the prison, the darkness dissolving to release her.

          _She’s crying¸_ Branna noticed as Haru dragged her girlfriend across the clearing. Zhu-li’s usual cold front had cracked completely- tears of rage and grief were streaming down her beautiful face. _Zhu-li’s never cried before._

“How could you do this?” Zhu-li asked Haru quietly between sobs.

          Haru’s face hardened. “This is what must be done to end the reign of the gods, Zhu-li. This is what we’ve always wanted,” he said, his voice tense.

          “I thought we were family, Haru,” Zhu-li whispered, her words barely audible from Branna’s place of hiding. “I thought we were family...”

          _Family…_

_*         *         *_

_Seven years ago..._

_Branna hated everything. She hated the police, she hated her father, she hated her stupid half-siblings but most of all, she hated her mother._

_The Morrigan. It made Branna want to laugh. It was something out a children’s story. Her mother was only absent because she was too important, too powerful!_

_Too important for Branna._

_Bile rose in Branna’s throat as she banished the memories._

_The Liffey below her gurgled in the autumn twilight. She’d run out of her father’s house after their fifth argument in two days and didn’t want to go back yet. Besides, she like the park. It was quiet and out of the way._

_“I don’t ever want to go back,” she said. It felt good to say that out loud. For most of her life, she’d dealt with problems by punching them in the face. For the first time, she found that she couldn’t, and she hated it._

_“Well, do I have news for you then,” a man’s voice, his accent American, spoke up from behind her._

_Slowly turning from where she sat on the park bench, she saw the man who spoke barely looked older than she did. He wore a suit that looked a bit ridiculous on his undergrown figure, a tangle of wild hair framing a narrow face. What took Branna’s breath away were his eyes, which burned with a wild intensity Branna could almost feel._

_He was flanked by two Asians, a boy and a girl both around Branna’s age. The boy shifted restlessly on his feet, refusing to look at Branna. The girl carried herself with grace, her face composed in cold, quiet beauty. She found herself staring._

_The girl raised an eyebrow at her. Branna felt herself blush._

_The American continued on, either ignoring or not noticing Branna’s discomfort. He hopped over the back of the bench to sit next to her._

_“What if I told you you didn’t have to go back to that terrible home, that facsimile of a family?” he asked, gazing intently at the Liffey below them._

_“I- what?” Branna said. “Who the fuck are you? What do you know about my home?”_

_The man turned to face her. “My name is Timothy Panateros, Branna. And I understand more than you could possible imagine about your family.” He paused. “Both the mortal and divine side.”_

_Branna recoiled as if struck, shooting to her feet. Amused, she noticed the boy had jumped at her sudden movement and had drawn out a long knife. Ignoring him, she asked Panateros, “What are you?”_

_He smiled grandly at her. “Why Branna! We’re your new family!”_

_Branna furrowed her brow. “My_ new _family?” She turned to the two Asians behind the bench. “You three are crazy. Why would I ever be a part of your stupid little family?”_

_The boy scowled at her silently. The girl, however, treated Branna with a slight half-smile._

_Branna felt her pulse quicken._ I could get lost in those smiles _. The thought came unbidden._

_“You should try it,” the girl said, her voice high and melodic, like a flute. “This family is better than any I’ve ever been a part of.”_

_Despite herself, Branna felt herself relax. “Family, huh?” she said._

_*         *         *_

_Present day..._

          _Family..._

          Branna snapped back to the present. _I have to do something,_ she thought. _But what? I can’t fight both Haru and Panateros at once!_

          Haru unceremoniously slammed Zhu-li in the back of the head.

          Branna felt herself turn to steel as her girlfriend’s body went slack, tensing to jump to Zhu-li’s aid. Before she could follow through, she felt a hand on her shoulder, holding her in place. The Morrigan had returned, her expressionless eyes gazing at Zhu-li’s crumpled form. Branna swallowed a snarl.

          “Let go of me.”

          “Daughter, wait. You cannot do this. Panateros is stronger that you know.”

          “I can’t do nothing, _Morrigan_. Just because you tend to the horrors of fate without emotion doesn’t mean _I_ have to.

          The Morrigan’s expression didn’t falter. “If you go out there, you both die, this I forsee.”

          “And what you have me do?”

          “I would have you accept my help, daughter,” the Morrigan said.

          “I hate you,” Branna growled through gritted teeth.

          “I know,” the Morrigan intoned.

          Haru slowly drew a wakizashi from the darkness that surrounded him, carefully bringing it to Zhu-li’s throat.

          Branna felt something within her give. Taking a shuddering breath, she said “But for her, I’ll do it.”

          “I know,” the Morrigan said, closing her eyes. Reopening them and fixing her gaze onto Branna, she said, “Brace yourself, daughter.”

          “Fuck y-” Branna was cut off as power like she’d never known rushed through her. She felt power, as if the very essence of violence itself was coursing through her, filling her with burning ice, frozen flame, the _need_ to destroy.

          At the same time, she felt the threads of fate binding her, guiding her. Her stomach churned at the fatebindings urged her forward.

          _I don’t do this because fate guides me,_ Branna thought, fighting to calm the urge to throw away the Morrigan’s fatalistic power. _I do this for Zhu-li._

          With a roar, she _pushed_. The forest groan around her as a million ravens surged forward, exploding into existence around her. At her will, they slammed into Orlanda, knocking her off her feet, where she lay motionless. Turning her attention to Haru, they blasted him away from Zhu-li. Immediately, Branna was with her, catching her unconscious body in her arms.

          Carefully laying her down, Branna swivelled to look at Haru. The man was getting up slowly, eyeing Branna warily.

          “What is this, Branna,” he asked dully. “What are you doing?”

          “What must be done,” Branna said.

          “No…” Haru said, his voice betraying disbelief. “You’re using the Morrigan’s powers.”

          Branna’s expression hardened. “I am.”

          “Traitor!” Haru screamed, gathering shadows around himself. “What about everything you said! You hate her!”

          Branna fell into a fighting stance, a murder of ravens flying in tandem around her. “I do.”

          “Then WHY!?” he shouted, his voice ragged. “What about everything we fought for!? First Zhu-li, then you!?” His voice broke on Zhu-li’s name.

          “Because,” she said. “I will fight for my family, Haru. I thought you did as well.”

          Haru’s face contorted into a vicious snarl. “You think I _ever_ cared for you? You were nothing more than tools with which to burn the gods! That’s all that matters, do you hear me?!? THAT’S ALL THAT MATTERS!”

          Branna braced herself as a dozen clones composed of darkness erupted from Haru’s figure, launching themselves at her. Barely moving herself, Branna directed the murder to eviscerate the clones before they even touched her.

          She let out a low bellow of laughter as Haru screamed in frustration. “Well, Haru, once your shell cracks it sure fucking cracks, doesn’t it?”

          “I WILL KILL YOU!” he shouted, his voice raw.

          “Tut tut, Haru. I don’t think so,” Panateros’ voice called out from the Gate, jarring Branna from her fight. She’d almost forgotten he had been there. Turning around, his wild eyes met Branna’s. “I think this one’s out of your league. I’ll take her.”

          “But, sir, the ritual-”

          “Can wait a few minutes,” Panateros interrupted. “It can last being unattended for that long at least.” He waved a hand in Branna’s direction and the ground around her _erupted_. Vines and roots sprang out, grabbing at her with vice grips.

          Swearing, Branna jumped up and found herself flying. Glancing behind her, she saw two massive black-feathered wings flapping, keeping her airborn. She grinned down at Panateros’ snarling figure.

          Branna dove at him, intending to wipe that smug, self-satisfied smile off the bastard’s face once and for all. Instead, she rammed head-first into a wall made of shadows. Below her, Haru let out a feral snarl, his arms extended out as he controlled the darkness.

          Before she could react, the forest on the other side of the clearing burst out, heralding the arrival of Jaram and... Delphine? The daughter of the voodoo rode on the son of Bastet’s giant cat, her expression set. As soon as they’d burst into the clearing, they jumped onto Haru.

          “DO YOU HAVE TO DIE TODAY AS WELL, DELPHINE?!” Haru screamed at her as he blasted the two of them with shuriken of darkness.

          Realizing that Haru would be distracted with Delphine and Jaram and not letting herself think too hard about how the two were working together, Branna flew directly at Panateros.

          The son of Pan’s grin had twisted into a rictus smirk. Branna slammed at him with everything she could, the force of a thousand warriors in the blow. She gaped as her fist somehow missed Panateros by a few feet.

          With a snarl, she rounded on him again but this time barely managed to get to him before tripping over herself.

          “Coward!” she cried. “Fight me like a warrior!”

          “Why Branna,” he spat through his smirk. “I would, if only you’d ever reach me!”

*         *         *

          Zhu-li came to in fits and starts. She kept having these vivid dreams where Haru had betrayed them and tried to kill her, that Adam was dead.

          Groaning she rolled over in the mud.

          _In the mud._

          Her heart sank. She felt herself stiffen. It hadn’t been a dream.

          With difficulty, she looked up. Jaram and Delphine fought furiously in tandem, struggling against a seemingly endless stream of soldiers formed of solid shadow. Branna, beautiful, deadly, Branna, was surrounded by a halo of ravens, and struggling to stand as she took wild swings at Panateros.

          Orlanda knelt at Adam’s corpse.

          Whining with effort and doing her best to stay out of the fighting, she dragged herself to Orlanda’s side. She almost collapsed when she saw the other woman crying, clutching the arm she’d scored with her dagger during their battle earlier.

          “Feeling regret?” Zhu-li asked, unable to bring herself to care about her tone. Orlanda had just sacrificed Adam in cold blood. _Adam_. The gentlest person Zhu-li had ever met.

          Orlanda didn’t even look at Zhu-li. “Yes,” she said, her voice small.

          Zhu-li blinked. She hadn’t been expecting that kind of admission from her.

          “Didn’t you realize what was going to happen?”

          “No.” Orlanda shook her head slowly. “I was always under the impression we were going to sacrifice the son of Dionysus.”

          “What? Why?”

          “To wake Pan, of course,” Orlanda said with a hysterical giggle. “It’s what Panateros wants. But he said that Adam would be better, that his earthen powers would be better suited than Saramago’s chaotic brand.”

          “So you killed your friend,” Zhu-li said, her voice bland even to her own ears.

          “So I killed my brother,” Orlanda echoed.

          The two sat in silence for a moment, letting the shouts and yowls of the fight wash over them.

          “I can reverse it,” Orlanda said suddenly.

          Zhu-li started. “What?”

          “I know how to reverse it!” Orlanda said, almost bounding in anticipation. “We can stop him!”

          Zhu-li hesitated. “Do we want that, though?”

          Orlanda gave her a flat look. “I… what?”

          Zhu-li shook her head. “Don’t get me wrong, fuck Panateros. But… Isn’t this the whole point of our group? To take down the gods? Awakening Pan would be a huge step in that direction…”

          “I…” Orlanda said. “That’s what I thought as I… that’s what I was thinking when I killed him. But I realized, watching Branna fight for you, that it’s not why I’m with you guys anymore.” She smiled faintly, gently cupping Adam’s cold face. “As cheesy as it sounds, I’m in it for you guys now.”

          Zhu-li didn’t know how to react to that. Awkwardly, she placed a hand on Orlanda’s shoulder. Then it registered.

          “Branna’s fighting for _me_?” she asked.

          Orlanda nodded. “Pretty much as soon as Haru knocked you out, she exploded from the treeline with a vengeance to save you.”

          _Oh._ “And the crows?” she said out loud.

          Orlanda shrugged. “She seems to have made a deal with her mother.”

          _For me…?_ Zhu-li was stunned. Branna made no secret about how much she hated the Morrigan, so for this…

          Zhu-li felt herself harden. “How do we reverse the ritual?” she asked.

          A smile slowly spread across Orlanda’s grief-stricken face. “You need to get me there,” she said pointing to the entrance to Hades. “I can do it from there. I’ll need cover once I’ve started, though. I have no idea what would happen if I were to be interrupted.”

          Before she could think about it too hard, Zhu-li grabbed the other woman’s hand and said, “Let’s do it.”

          Using the battle between Jaram, Delphine and Haru as cover, they hurried along the outskirts of the clearing. On the way, Zhu-li said, “I have to ask. Why are Delphine and Jaram working together, again?”

          Orlanda shrugged. “I don’t have a clue. They came out of the woods together.”

          Zhu-li shook her head. Too many things had changed in the last half hour to make sense of any of it. As they neared the entrance of the cave where Branna and Panateros fought, the man’s words became clear to Zhu-li’s ears.

          “You think the Morrigan can help you, Branna? You’re still the same pathetic little girl I met all those years ago in Dublin, who thinks that all her problems can be solved by punching them hard enough!”

          As he spoke reality seemed to warp around the two, causing Branna to stumble around, swearing under her breath as she tried to direct the murder that surrounded her.

          “Shut… up…” Branna muttered through gritted teeth.

          Zhu-li felt her veins turn to ice as Orlanda snuck ahead to the place of the ritual.

          “Why don’t you try to MAKE me, little gi- gah!” Panateros’ taunts were cut short as a dagger of ice embedded itself in his right lapel. His eyes slid off Branna and locked on Zhu-li.

          “Don’t you _dare_ talk about her that way you vile, contemptable, _pig_ ,” Zhu-li hissed.

          Panateros gaped at her for a second before recomposing his mad grin. “Sure, bring two!” he screamed to no one, flecks of saliva flying through his smirk. “What’s another traitor to the pile? They seem to be a dime a dozen these days!”

          Branna looked at Zhu-li in the eyes, her expression a mixture of wonder and gratitude. Zhu-li tossed her girlfriend the closest thing to a reassuring smile as she could manage under the circumstance. The bigger woman grinned back.

          Despite the magnitude of the situation, Zhu-li thought she was happy in that moment.

          It all came crushing down again as Panateros unleashed his disorienting powers on her. Suddenly, Zhu-li couldn’t seem to stand properly. Thoughts were dying before they could form. Her eyes watered as her vision started to double, then triple.

          Then, as abruptly as it had started, everything went back to normal. Gasping in relief, Zhu-li looked at Panateros in confusion. Why had he let up?

          The man himself seemed uncertain as well, until his eyes roamed to behind Zhu-li. There, beyond the whirlwind clash of blade, fang, and shadow, stood Saramago leaning heavily on his _thyrsus_ , his hand extended towards them, canceling Panateros’ powers with his own.

          Despite herself, Zhu-li stared. The man had been nearly catatonic from despair earlier when she’d been in the shadow prison.

          “Well, well,” Panateros laughed. “Did dear little Vinny decide to grow a pair and actually fight me? Where did this sudden courage come from?”

          Saramago smiled. It was a sincere smile, not the half-mad hysteria he’d been in during the earlier battle. “You see, _Tim_ ,” he said, spitting out Panateros’ name like it tasted bad, “I remembered that I have a near infinite supply of liquid courage on hand. So I decided to have a bit!” His giggle was cut short by a hiccup.

          “We’re so fucked,” Branna muttered.

          “For once in your life, little girl, you’re right!” Panateros said. As he spoke, Zhu-li saw Orlanda finally sneak up to the entrance to the Underworld.

          _Okay,_ Zhu-li told herself. _We’ve just got to keep him distracted._

“Branna,” she heard herself say.

          Branna started, turning to her girlfriend. “Yeah?”

          “Let’s end him.”

          Branna grinned widely. Around her, the ravens screeched in harmony. “Oh yeah.”

          Panateros laughed. “Do you really think that you can sshtop mmmmm-” he stopped midsentence, frowning.

          Behind her, Zhu-li heard Saramago laugh. “Dude,” he said, his _thyrsus_ pointing at Panateros, “Timmy you sound fucking retarded.”

          Branna snickered. Zhu-li slapped her lightly. “Don’t encourage him.”

          With a roar, Panateros spread his arms and the mud at his feet exploded with grasping vines.

          Gesturing sharply, Zhu-li created shards of ice to slice the vines before they could reach either of them. Before long, they stood atop a pile of dead and frozen plants.

          “Enough of this!” Panateros roared. “This can wait for the ritual. Once Pan is awake you’ll all be nothing but insects to my power!”

          “NO!” Zhu-li shouted as she shot a blast of ice and snow at Panateros. The blizzard slammed Panateros to the ground, but it was too late. He’d already turned around to see Orlanda kneeling at the Gate.

          “WELL, WELL, WELL,” Panateros shouted, slowly getting to his feet with the help of vines that grew from the mud to support him, “WHEN I SAID TRAITORS WERE A DIME A DOZEN, THAT WASN’T AN _INVITATION_ , ORLANDA!”

          Orlanda whipped around, guilt and fear written on her face. Before she could react, the vine that Panateros had used to rise up whipped to her, wrapping itself tightly around her neck and lifting her off the ground.

          “What have you done?” Panateros asked the woman quietly. Then, less quietly, he shouted, “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?”

          When Orlanda didn’t reply due to being held up by her neck, Panateros gave a dismissive flick of his wrist and the vine threw her across the field, straight into Saramago, knocking the man down.

          As one, Zhu-li and Branna turned to Panateros.

          “You’re going to pay for that,” Branna growled.

*         *         *

          My day was going pretty terribly even before I was hit with a projectile Aztec scion. At this point, though, my friends were knocked out or dying, Panateros was resurrecting Pan. And it was all my fault.

          Flying Aztecs to the face were barely a dip in the bucket at this point.

          Groaning, I shoved her off of me before struggling to my feet.

          _I’ve been struggling to my feet a lot today_.

          I looked over the battlefield. Jaram and Delphine, the gods bless them, were almost on top of Haru at this point, his shadows barely tangible anymore as the two ripped them apart with tooth, claw, and knife. Branna and Zhu-li were doing their best with Panateros, but there was only so much they could do without my help on the chaos front. As it were, they were putting up one hell of a fight, forcing Panateros back even as the madman screamed about how they stood no chance.

          Holding my breath, I opened the Unlidded Eye.

          “Fuck me,” I muttered.

          From the ground came Orlanda’s voice: “Not pretty is it?”

          “Fuck me,” I repeated.

          Kneeling down, I helped Orlanda to her feet.

          “Do I wanna know why you’re on my side all of a sudden,” I asked.

          Orlanda groaned. “Not on your side. Just not on Panateros’.”

          “Fair enough,” I said. Pointing to the ritual, I added, “So how do we stop that massive buildup of magic from laying waste to the county?”

          “You’re way too happy,” Orlanda muttered, rubbing her temples. “It’s giving me a headache.”

          I shrugged in what I hoped was an apologetic manner. “Sorry. I’d offer you some alcohol but I think we need you in your best mental faculties at the moment.”

          Orlanda muttered something in Spanish under her breath.

          “I don’t speak that,” I informed her. “But I’d still like to know how we stop magical doomsday.”

          With a sigh, Orlanda shook her head. “I don’t think we can anymore. Panateros took me out too early. The best I can hope to do is contain it.”

          I nodded. I’d figured that much anyways. “So you just need to get back there?”

          She nodded.

          “How do we do that without ol’ Timmy-boy noticing?”

          She shrugged. “He’ll be on guard now. I’d suggest we run, but he’s layered the area in so much chaotic energy it’s almost impossible to escape.”

          An idea occurred to me. Grabbing Orlanda by the arm, I threw one last glance to Jaram and Delphine. “Yo! Catboy, Bitch, you two okay?”

          “FUCK OFF,” Delphine shouted back.

          “Good to know,” I muttered. To Orlanda, I said “Trust me.” And I ran full tilt into the woods.

          “I told you! We can’t escape!” she hissed at me as I dragged her with me.

          “Not the plan,” I said. “Now be quiet.”

          A few steps later, we emerged into the clearing again, despite having run away from it in a straight line. Conveniently enough, we emerged right next to the cavemouth.

          “Oh look at that,” I whispered to her. “I’m a fucking genius.”

          “Shut up,” she replied before slipping on ahead to the entrance.

          As soon as she reached the location, the threads of magic and fate began to move in large, deliberate strokes. Every small change Orlanda caused sent a reverberation through the massive fatebound construct, altering the whole thing in significant, but subtle, flourishes.

          “Holy shit,” I muttered to myself, “how did I ever even think that I could beat her at this?”

*         *         *

          Haru felt nothing but hate.

          He hated the gods.

          He hated Zhu-li, Branna, and Delphine for betraying them.

          He hated Orlanda for having second thoughts.

          He hated Adam for his stupid, trusting nature.

          He hated Panateros for making them kill him.

          He hated the massive feline that pinned him to the ground.

          But as Delphine’s knife sliced his throat open, her face a mask of disappointment and loathing, Haru found he hated himself most of all.

*         *         *

          Branna had never felt so _alive_.

          The power of the Morrigan coursed through her veins, empowering her ever movement and filling her with a razor focus that reduced Panateros’ chaos-inducing aura to a numb buzzing at the back Branna’s mind.. With her newfound powers and Zhu-li at her side, Panateros quickly started to lose ground, trading his smirk for a hateful snarl. With a sweeping gesture, Branna sent a thousand death-eyed corvids to lift Panateros into the. Panateros desperately summoned vines to swat the birds away, but a flick from Zhu-li’s wrist sent a tempest of knife-edged icicles cutting the vines at their base.

          With a wordless shout, Panateros was dragged into the air. Any semblance of composure he once held was long shattered. His hair was wild and mangled in blood that seeped from a thousand small talon-marks that marked his forehead; his suit stretched and torn as the birds that clutched it flew higher and higher. The only thing that didn’t change was his eyes. Their mad, wild gleam finally matched the rest of him.

          “The classic?” Branna asked Zhu-li, not taking her eyes off Panateros’ rising form.

          Branna didn’t have to see the other woman to know her expression: a tight-lipped smile followed by a shallow nod. Immediately, the snow that covered the field began to coalesce under Panateros, rising and coming to a fine point nearly eight feet above the ground- a massive, conical spike hewn from snow and ice.

          “Do it,” Zhu-li said.

          With a roar, Branna brought her fists down in an arc. In response, the ravens dove down onto the iceborn spike, driving Panateros’ torso straight through. A scream of agony wretched itself from the man’s lips as he was driven further and further down the icicle.

          Branna and Zhu-li watched in stoic silence as the shrieks of pain dragged off into gurgling, choking moans.

          Panateros never stopped twitching.

          “What the fuck,” Delphine said. “Isn’t he going to fucking die?”

          Branna nearly jumped. She hadn’t noticed Delphine’s approach, but she and Jaram stood behind Branna and Zhu-li, expressions of vague consternation on their faces.

          Zhu-li gave a slight shrug. “It doesn’t matter. He’s out of the picture now,” she said. Taking a small breath, she asked, “Haru?”

          “Taken care of,” Delphine said in a small voice.

          The three women shared a moment of silence.

          “So!” Jaram said, his voice grating the solemn silence, “What’s the plan now?”

          “The plan,” Branna growled, “Is to let Orlanda do her work and get out of here.”

          “Oh,” Jaram said. “Then why is Mango lookin’ like he just saw the answer to the universe?”

          Branna glanced to the Gate. Orlanda was kneeling at the entrance, sweat beading down her brow despite the heat, her dark hair clinging to her forehead. Next to her, Saramago stood slack-jawed, gazing at the air above her head.

          A single bound brought Branna to his side. With a slight slap to the face, she brought him out of his reverie.

          “Yo, what the fuck?” he squawked in protest.

          “I barely touched you, you child,” she said as a bruise spread across his face. “Now, what’s the deal with the magic shit going on?”

          Saramago gingerly massaged his bruise. “Orlanda’s just about finishing up her actual, honest-to-gods fateweaving miracle. Once she ties off the weave, then we run like hell before the turbulent streams of magic level the area into magical wasteland.”

          “Great,” Branna said flatly. Gesturing to the still-unconscious forms of his companions, she said, “Start getting your loser friends together. Officer Fuck-wit should be coming to in a bit- I didn’t hit him too hard and his skull is thick as shit.”

          Saramago snorted. “You can say that again.”

          When he didn’t move, Branna shouted “Scram!”, sending him scrambling across the field, his arms raised defensively, almost tripping over Zhu-li and Delphine as they approached. He grabbed Jaram as he ran and the two of them began to rouse their friends.

          The three of them watched in silence as Orlanda strained against the magic of the area.

          Finally, Delphine, the only one of them who could actually see the threads of fate, spoke up. “You’re not going to be able to let that construct go even for a second, are you?”

          Orlanda gasped a straggled chuckle. “No way, _esse_.”

          Branna blinked. “What?”

          “That thing,” Delphine said gesturing at the air above the field, “has gotten too unwieldy. As soon as she lets go of it, it’s goin’ boom.”

          Zhu-li clicked before Branna did. Her voice level, she said, “So she has to stay. Until the explosion goes off.”

          Branna felt her heart sink. “No way,” she said hoarsely. “We didn’t go through all that shit just to lose another of us. C’mon, Orlanda, there’s gotta be a way.”

          Another strained laugh. “Branna, please,” Orlanda choked out between deep breaths, her chest heaving in effort. “Let me do this is all my fault. If I hadn’t. Sacrificed Adam. This wouldn’t be happening.”

          “Orlanda,” Zhu-li began.

          “Zhu-li. Please. Let me do this,” Orlanda implored, blinking against the sweat pouring into her eyes. “Just once. Let me make a sacrifice. That means something. I’ve sacrificed dozens. Hundreds. But this. This will be my masterpiece.”

          Branna was suddenly filled with a sense of... rightness. Not necessarily that the whole situation, that Orlanda’s decision, was the correct one per se, but that it was somehow the _needed_ one. She felt bile rise up. This was the Morrigan’s power, her purview. Fate, destiny, the inevitable. At that moment, Branna understood what a terrible thing it was, to know with certainty what was needed to happen, and not being able to stop it- not even _wanting_ to stop it.

          It made her sick.

          Zhu-li looked like she wanted to keep arguing, so Branna placed a hand on her shoulder and shook her head. “She’s made her choice,” she said through gritted teeth. “It has to happen.”

          Zhu-li wilted slightly. Her jaw tightened as she grabbed Delphine, who was staring at the invisible tempest of magic apparently swirling above them, and stomped away across the clearing.

          Branna sighed as her girlfriend left. “She’s going to forgive you eventually,” Branna told Orlanda.

          Orlanda grunted. “You have. Five minutes. Before this clearing gets blasted to Mictlan.”

          Snorting, Branna gave Orlanda her sloppiest salute. “Godspeed, you crazy bitch,” she said before loping across the clearing.

          She came to a stop at Panateros’ still-convulsing form. The snow around the base of the icicle was drenched with blood, crimson seeping through the white. Branna looked down at him for a moment. Kneeling down, she said, “This is what happens when you fuck with my family, Panateros.”

          Maybe it was her imagination, but his gaping expression seemed to shift from formless agony into a rictus grin. Curling her lips, Branna spat at his face before joining Zhu-li and the others.

          Saramago and Jaram had managed to rouse Hudson and MacElwee, who were glaring at Delphine and Zhu-li warily as she worked her healing abilities on her allies.

          Not bothering to ease them at all, Branna simply said, “Let’s go.”

*         *         *

          “So yeah,” Saramago was saying, his voice slurring slightly, “That’s PRETTY much what happened.” He looked to Jaram for confirmation, but the man just shrugged.

          Zhu-li shifted in her seat. The ten of the survivors from the battle were sat around a massive dining table, at the head of which say a small white woman who looked to be in her fifties. Zhu-li eyed her warily as Saramago gave his report between swigs of wine and hiccups. The woman, Agathe, had whisked them all to the dining room in a flick of her wrist. Anyone with that level of psychopomp was not someone to be trifled with.

          A small silence filled the room as Saramago came to a stop. The ones who had been unconscious during the battle were uneasy with Zhu-li and her friends, but even Hudson had ceased with the hostile glares, and the son of Ptah had tried to make conversation with Branna on the ride over. It hadn’t worked.

          Agathe looked at Delphine, Branna, and Zhu-li slowly by turn. As her gaze fell on her, Zhu-li felt her skin heat up under her scrutiny, feeling the need to defend herself. Before she could say anything, Agatha clasped her hands together loudly.

          “Well then!” she said. “Welcome to the Orphanage.”

          Zhu-li was stunned. “Just like that?”

          Agatha smiled kindly. “We divines are all related someway or other, honey. Forgive and forget, that’s what family’s all about isn’t it?”

          Zhu-li felt Branna shift beside her and found her hand engulfed in the larger woman's. Zhu-li clutched the larger woman's hand tightly, thankful for her presence.

 _Thank you, Orlanda,_ she thought.  _I'm so sorry, Adam, Haru._

          "Yes," she said, her voice thick. "Yes, I guess it is."

 

**Author's Note:**

> holy shit imagine if i could write endings


End file.
